


Color of his Fear

by LaCacciatrice



Category: The Flash (Comics), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, One-Sided Relationship, it's not really barry tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:48:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaCacciatrice/pseuds/LaCacciatrice
Summary: When a mission goes wrong, Eobard is forced to confront his greatest fear: the Flash.
Relationships: Barry Allen/Eobard Thawne
Kudos: 29





	Color of his Fear

**Author's Note:**

> English isn't my first language.

The cold damp ground under him, the darkness surrounding all around, and the rotten smell in the air felt so real. Yet, Eobard knew deep down that none of this was real. He, or his material body, was simply laying in the middle of the room of an ancient temple alongside the Suicide Squad members. When the deity, or whatever it was protecting the temple, appeared, Eobard knew things were about to get messy. Always the arrogant speedster that he was, he believed he could tap into the Speed Force and drag himself and even the others out of the treasure room. After all, he needed others to complete the mission. 

But whatever power was protecting the room severed his connection to the Speed Force and knocked Eobard out before he could escape. When he opened his eyes, he found himself surrounded by this darkness. 

He sat up, pressing his elbows against his knees as he rubbed his eyes with an annoyed huff and puff. He wondered if others were going through the same bullshit. The first thing he noticed was that the Speed Force was gone. It existed outside of this reality of course but Eobard couldn’t reach it. Like there was a wall between them. As someone who has been a speedster for a long time, he still had some sort of connection to the Force. He couldn’t use it but he could feel it. He felt deprived, naked. He wanted to reach forward and catch it between his fingers, burying the Force deep inside his chest, where it belonged. 

That’s when he heard the faint sound of footsteps. It felt strangely familiar. Like his own. He noticed one thing common in all speedsters; after gaining their powers, their movements get more elegant, their steps gets quieter like they were walking in the air on their tiptoes. 

He couldn’t see him but he could feel the speedster in front of him, a soft white light tracing his figure but that wasn’t very helpful. Most speedsters had a similar athletic physique. Eobard was about to open his mouth and ask the other who they were or what they wanted when the figure took another step forward. 

Eobard’s first instinct was to crawl back, away from _him_. He grinned bitterly. 

“No, oh, no, no, no, NO!” He chuckled; his voice was poisonous. But the red-clad figure didn’t seem to mind. He looked as good as Eobard remembered. All-clad in red with gold streaks, standing in front of him as the soft light accented his elegant figure like a God. He was tall, lean, Eobard could almost see the energy running through that strong body. The only thing different was those baby blue eyes were now glistering yellow in the darkness. Eobard hated it. Flash’s blue eyes were his signature, they would lighten with kindness and compassion, darken with anger and pain. This... this wasn’t like him. 

It felt strange. Alien. Wrong. Evil. 

“What’s wrong?” Even his voice was the same... yet it didn’t feel like Barry. His accent, the tone was wrong. “Not happy to see me, Eobard?” 

“You are not real.” Eobard hissed between his teeth. “You are not _him_.” 

Fake Flash didn’t seem to be offended by Eobard’s claims. He took another step forward. 

“Does it matter? You are not real either, not in this realm, but here we are. I am as real as you are here.” 

“What do you want?” Fake Flash raised his hand, waving a delicate long red-gloved finger in the air like he was getting ready to scold a kindergarten child. 

“Uh-huh. The question must be... what do _you_ want?” 

“I want you to fuck off.” With another step, Fake Flash was coming closer slowly. Eobard wanted to push himself up, he wanted to stand up so he could face Flash on eye level, not laying at his feet like a low life. But it was almost like this moment had gravity, it was pushing Eobard on his knees with a strength that could rival Superman. 

“Think this as a chance, Eobard.” Flash stood in front of him, placing his hands on his hips. “Tell me everything you couldn’t tell before. Tell me all those things that your Flash wouldn’t listen to.” 

“I have nothing to say to you.” In a sense, that was true. There was a time Eobard would talk to Flash for hours, this wasn’t it. Not anymore. Time was a strange thing for speedsters. Eobard could claim that he loved and idolized Barry for a thousand years, he could claim they were fighting for centuries. They kept going back and forth between them. In this sense, this idolization, alongside his love, died centuries ago. 

“It’s funny actually.” But Fake Flash showed no sign of laughing. His tone was slightly better but it was still clearly not Barry. “Normally it would be me lying on the ground while listening to your monologue.” 

“What? You will give me a villain monologue?” Eobard laughed bitterly. “Please, do continue, talk me to death. It seems there is no other way out of this.” 

A small smile teased the corners of this Fake Flash’s lips upward. 

“Even, here, knowing that I am not real, you still play this game with me.” He slightly tilted his head to left with a curious gaze that reminded him of his Barry. The one he used to know. When he would first appear in the 25th century with those blue eyes opened wide with curiosity and look at the smallest piece of technology like it was the most amazing thing he’s ever seen. How his warm hands would grab Eobard’s with excitement, rebellious strands of blond hair falling into his eyes, how he would smile at him, showing those perfect teeth, as they talked about the Speed Force. 

“It’s time to face your biggest fear, Eobard: me.” If Eobard still had the Speed Force, red lightning would crackle around them angrily. Eobard’s entire body was trembling with the effort to keep his body under control. His jaw was starting to hurt from grinding his teeth. He wanted to jump on Flash and punch him to death. He wanted to smash Barry’s head against the damp floor. He wanted to wrap his fingers around that delicate neck and squeeze. 

“I am not afraid of you!” He spat out angrily. His head was hurting and the red of Flash’s suit was starting to annoy him. What a stupid color and goofy looking costume. Only someone like Barry Allen would choose to look like a freaking Santa Claus while fighting crime and otherworldly gods. 

“No. You are not.” Flash stated matter-of-factly. While this agreement brought a small piece of calmness to Eobard, Flash’s smile was still getting on his nerves. _Oh, the hero with the big heart. Always saves the world with a smile on his face._ Eobard wanted to punch that smile until it would stain with blood and spit. “You are afraid of what I think of you.” 

“Huh.” Eobard snorted mockingly. “You are from another timeline, _Barry_? Because what you claim was YEARS ago. That future is gone.” His eyes darkened, an evil smirk appearing on his lips. “I made sure of it. Destroyed with my bare hands when I put my hand through your mother’s chest.” 

But this Barry wasn’t the sentimental idiot. This Barry had no mother or father. He had no earthly desires, hopes, dreams, or pains. No past, no present, no future. He was just a shell. Filled with Eobard’s own fears. 

“That only proves my point, Eobard.” Eobard’s face fell with disappointment. He used to love taunting the Flash, mocking him, and playing with him. This Fake Flash was immune to his verbal attacks. “You did what you did to prove a point. To me.” 

“Yeah.” Eobard replied with anger coloring his voice. “That I can fucking destroy you!” 

“That you can be better than me.” Flash leaned forward to face him with a stupid smile on his stupid face. “To prove that you can cross that one line, like a kid throwing temper tantrums.” 

Eobard lost all his control then, he jumped forward with an angry growl and raised his right arm to throw a punch at Flash’s face. But before he could even touch the Scarlet Speedster, he disappeared into a dusty cloud of red and golden, and Eobard fell on his face where Flash was standing a second ago. He groaned, feeling lucky that no one saw him in this pathetic situation. When he turned around, Flash was standing there calmly, as nothing happened seconds ago. Eobard knew it was useless to try to start a physical fight with the Flash. He didn’t try to get up again, he just sat there with a grumpy expression on his face and watched the Flash. 

“You have always been like this.” Flash shook his head like a disappointed parent. Eobard’s blood was boiling with hatred. He couldn’t believe it but this Fake Flash was more annoying than the original one. “Always trying to prove a point, trying to impress me and when you fail, you lose yourself in anger and try to destroy everything around you.” 

“I am over you, Flash.” He spat out, eyes burning with hatred. “I no longer care about your approval. I am above you now.” 

“How many times will you repeat this? You aren’t trying to convince me; you are trying to convince yourself.” 

Eobard’s fingers were digging into his knee, anger surging through his veins like a drug. He hated himself for letting this Fake Barry to make him feel this way. It reminded him of old days; when Eobard was sitting behind the bars, hoping Barry to understand why he did all those terrible things, yet, all he could see was Barry’s saddened and disappointed expression. He hated that expression. He hated how at that moment, without saying anything, Barry could break him like that. Eobard stopped caring about what Barry thought of him a long time ago. But now... the way Fash towered above him, looked at him with those same eyes, only glistering yellow instead of blue... He hated how judged, how small, how unworthy he felt. Another desire to punch him surged but Eobard held himself back. He knew he couldn’t do anything and it was useless to seek a fight. 

“See,” the tip of Flash’s yellow boot poked his knee, “this is where you belong. On your knees. You know it deep down. It’s time to open up your eyes.” He pointed an accusing finger toward Eobard’s face. “Time to let go of your childish dreams and games, Eobard. This was how we were meant to be, our destiny: me among the heroes and gods, you at my feet, begging for my attention.” An evil smirk that didn't look right on Barry Allen’s face appeared on his face. “Begging to be me.” 

“There was a time,” Eobard choked, eyes focusing on the ground, avoiding Flash’s burning gaze to get his head together, “when all I wanted was your friendship. All I dreamed of. But those were the childish, naïve dreams of another Eobard. I buried those dreams with the man I used to be.” 

“Hmm.” Flash tilted his head, watching Eobard push back his cowl and bury his face in his hands with a growl. 

“I hate you!" He buried his shaky hands in strawberry blond hair and pulled the strands. “You... if you just—” 

Flash didn’t use his super-speed, Eobard wasn’t even sure if it could copy the uniqueness of Speed Force fully, he was too confused, angry, and conflicted to think about it. Flash circled around him very slowly. Taking his time. He finally stood in front of him and looked down at the Reverse. Eobard finally opened his eyes and with a burning glare he looked up at the Flash. 

“You say you are over me.” Flash muttered softly, hand reaching forward to cup Eobard’s chin softly. A shiver ran down Thawne’s spine, it’s been so long, so long since Barry touched him like this. For years, it was only punches and pushes. His eyes fluttered closed. There was no need to fight. “That you hate me. You claim you want to kill me.” Barry tilted Eobard’s face; the other man opened his eyes to meet Flash’s yellow eyes. “But deep down you know... everything you do, you still do to impress me. To prove to me that you can be worse than I thought you to be. In your own sick and twisted way, you still long for me.” 

Eobard hissed between his tightly closed teeth and tried to pull back but Flash held him still without hurting him. He slightly leaned forward, his lean frame towering above him like a deity. 

“I have still power over you.” He mumbled, eyes tracing Eobard’s face in a way that made the latter’s heart beat faster in his chest. His eyes widened slightly as he watched the Flash. “You still cover, tremble in front of me. You still crave my approval. My appreciation. My praises excite you.” 

Eobard wanted to object, he wanted to fight back but he just sat there with wide eyes. He was stuck between now and the past of their future. When he wasn’t the Reserve Flash and the Flash was a friend instead of an enemy. He loved this man. He idolized him. He was inspired by him. But he also wanted to kill him. He wanted to replace him. He wanted to be the Flash. He wanted to destroy Barry Allen! But... He also wanted Barry Allen to love him. To admire him. 

He groaned with pain and tried to pull back again. This place... it was messing with his head. 

“Why are you still fighting me, Eobard? You don’t care about crime; you aren’t a petty thief. Then why?” 

“Because...” He choked on words, forcing himself to swallow them. He didn’t want to embarrass himself anymore. But he was losing control. He threw his head back, eyes tightly closed, face twisted with pain, and screamed. “Because that’s the only time you ever spend time with me!” 

Flash let go of him, Eobard fell forward, slapping his hands against the damp floor, tiny droplets of water splashed on Flash’s shiny yellow boots. He was breathing heavily. The weight on his chest was lifted. He felt lighter. 

“You are pathetic, Eobard.” But there was no sarcasm, no humor in his voice. He sounded lifeless. He was achieving his purpose, soon, this Flash would stop existing. But Eobard’s memories of this realm would remain. “What did you think? That you could fill my boots? Central City would embrace you as their symbol of hope?” 

“I—” Eobard was breathing heavily as he pushed himself to sat up. 

“You thought I would love you?” 

“I gave you everything.” Eobard slapped his fists against the ground again. “I gave you all I had. I tried to change. I tried to become the person you wanted me to be.” 

"You pretended to be better, to trick me into thinking you were a hero. You wanted me to drop everything to come running to you. You wanted my world to revolve around you.” 

“You fucker!” Eobard straightened up quickly and pointed a finger at the Flash. “You! My entire world, being, it all revolved around you!” 

“I didn’t ask for it.” Flash said calmly. His lack of reaction made Eobard want to tear out his hair. Barry was often a calm and collected, sweet, easy-going guy. But Barry Allen also experienced his emotions very... passionately. It was one of the things that amazed Eobard. In the 25th Century, it wasn’t very common. After traveling back in time and seeing how people lived, Eobard was genuinely surprised by how emotionally repressed his people were. Barry was beautiful when he experienced sudden joy with his big smile and shining eyes, or when he was angry and his blue eyes turn dark, how he would yell and fight back if he believed something was wrong. It was almost addictive to Eobard. This... this Barry was all wrong. 

The spell was broken. 

Eobard Thawne knew Barry Allen. He loved him once. He fought and hated him later. This, whatever it was, wasn’t Barry Allen. And Eobard had no desire to sit here and listen to him talk bullshit. He was mad at himself, he almost let this charlatan trick him, fool him, make him believe it was truly the Flash standing in front of him. He even stopped referring to him as the Fake at some point. He played his game. 

But no more. 

“I can tell you one thing about Barry Allen.” He pushed himself back on his feet, feeling the pull of Speed Force once again. “I used to dream about meeting him. Barry Allen.” He laughed bitterly. “The Flash. I’d write little stories in my head about the connection we’d share. That he would see how alike we were and then the Flash would know how much he meant to me and feel the same. It’s a shame, I thought, that we would never meet. I could never tell him how I felt. That even though I had no one in my life, his sense of hope was a light in the darkness of the future. And as long as I had that I was never alone.” **[1]**

His heart clenched painfully as he confronted the Fake Flash. He understood now. What he needed to do to escape this place. 

“But, oh, the fates. Fates are funny.” He shook his head with a smirk. “I got what I wished for. I met the Flash. And it was better than I dreamed of! He was kind, polite, understanding, sweet, honest... Truly a light in the darkness. Hopes personified.” Fake Flash tilted his head, watching Eobard’s smirk fell slowly. Reverse Flash looked down with a frown. “But some things are not meant to be. And soon, fates showed me their plans for me. I was never meant to be Flash’s friend. His ally. His partner. No, no, no. I was meant for something greater. I was his equal, his opposite. I was his rival, his greatest enemy.” 

Eobard looked up to meet the Fake Flash’s yellow eyes and took a step forward. 

“It’s true, I hate the Flash. I want to kill him; I want to make him suffer. I want to see him cry, beg, struggle. But he’s been the center of my life for so long. I still have some fondness for him. Everything keeps dragging me back to him.” He took another step forward. “But you know what?” 

Fake Flash didn’t show any sign of curiosity but he was listening to Eobard quietly. Reverse felt it. It was back. Running through his veins like the purest kind of drug. He smirked at the Flash and before the red-clad hero could react, Eobard placed a hand on his shoulder faster than light and his other hand phased through his chest, crushing his heart between his fingers. Just like once the Flash did to him in a more poetic way. 

Eobard leaned closer to the Flash; he knew this wasn’t Barry but it still satisfied him nonetheless. 

“I am good at fighting back.” He whispered in his ear before the Fake Flash grew cold under his fingers and turned into a cloud of red dust that fell on his boots like blood-stained snowflakes. 

Then he fell. 

Into the darkness. 

This victory was his to take. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm lanthimo on tumblr
> 
> [1] This part is directly from the comics, word by word. Because it sounds pretty gay and I love it. Someone needs to leak Eo's Flash fanfics


End file.
